Amber Packs Her Bags

As D-Day approaches, Amber's excitement about working for the Mouse builds

- by Amber Sewell, February 28, 2011

The smell of coffee was heavy in the air. My sister and I sat in our regular spot: a small table by the window, watching passers-by as they entered Barnes and Noble. As I sipped my berry soda and watched my sister take her first bite of her sandwich - an odd creation made with turkey and apples - I ran through my mental checklist of the many things still to accomplish before the start of my Florida adventure.

Amber Makes a List

As soon as I recovered from my lengthy dash up the driveway and the shock of my acceptance into Disney's CareerStart Program, one of the first things I did was write up a shopping list. Documenting all of the items I would need for living on my own made the whole upcoming experience seem more real; after all, what was I going to do at home with a brownie pan or sunscreen, two of the items on my list?

Here, again, Disney websites and fellow participants proved their usefulness.

Disney's official CareerStart page offered a general list of items that most participants would need - bedding, televisions, Ethernet cables, business attire - and which I was more than happy to copy down.

Past participants also offered their advice as to exactly how much to pack (naturally, I failed to follow that advice), and those who had also just been accepted into the program feverishly debated such essential questions as whether we should buy shower curtains and hangers before we left, or wait until we arrived and hope the stores hadn't run out.

Another quandary quickly arose: we had been accepted, yes, but our shopping wouldn't be just for ourselves. What would our roommates think of our tastes in decorations, table cloths, and bath mats?

Amber Worries About Roommates

Some people knew going into the program that if they were accepted, they would let fate select their roommates. They would arrive in Florida blind, knowing no one and having no clue as to who they would be living with for the next four or six months.

Others knew exactly where they hoped to live, how many bedrooms they were going to have, and who would sleep in those beds.

Myself, I wasn't quite sure which path to follow.

The thing about choosing a roommate is that you never really know a person until you meet them. You can chat all you want on the Internet, but until you meet someone face-to-face, watch their expressions change to suit their tone of voice, it's difficult to judge whether you'll get along.

In a way, it's better to arrive without knowing anyone, free of preconceived notions. Sure, you are taking a chance, but not much more than if you had arranged to room with someone you'd never met.

Roommate surveys dominated the forums. People sent private messages and exchanged cell phone numbers, trying to gauge who they might be compatible with. I answered the generic questions and sent sporadic messages, but only half-heartedly. While I'd have liked to arrange the color scheme of the bathroom, or how many televisions would be in the apartment, it wasn't something that dominated my thoughts.

Amber Shops. And Shops.

So I continued to shop. I had a list of things to buy, sectioned into use or room, all color-coded. When I bought an item, I checked it off on my list and then stored it in one of the green tubs that now lined a section of my room.

Weekends became shopping expeditions, usually in the company of my younger sister. With the windows down and music playing loudly, I would drive us the forty-five minutes to the shopping area where we would patrol the aisles of Target, accumulating towels, washcloths, an iron, plates, and cups. Even the most boring of items were exciting, as they symbolized the beginning of an amazing exploit.

Our trips would inevitably end with a visit to Barnes and Noble. We'd sit in the little cafe and eat a late lunch during which my sister, Hayley, would try to talk me out of buying yet another book, and I would usually override her logic. We'd talk of my plans for Florida, the general air of excitement, things that I had yet to buy. It was a nice little ritual we established before I moved away.

Christmas came in the midst of everything, and with it a vast array of things to take with me: a mini ironing board, a coffee maker (the most essential purchase), and a dozen other useful items.

I told what I knew about the program to countless friends and family members, sometimes multiple times if they were in the habit of forgetting things.

And each time I told it, my excitement grew.

The days were creeping by: I was finally done with high school, having graduated a few weeks before, and now I spent much of my time at the animal clinic, working as many hours as possible before I'd have to leave.

Amber Finds Her Roommates

One day I was meandering through my favourite unofficial Disney forum when I realized I had a private message. It was from a girl (Paige) on the College Board who'd seen my roommate survey. We had a lot of things in common, she pointed out, including our favorite show, Gilmore Girls. Anyone who liked Gilmore Girls, she said, couldn't be all bad. I looked her up on Facebook, and after a few more messages, we agreed to be roommates.

After the initial conversation, we didn't really talk much. I was too daunted by the awkwardness of getting to know a stranger through the Internet to really initiate conversations - after all, what would I say? So I let it lie; we had common interests, and that would give us things to talk about once we arrived in Orlando. I was fine with that.

Later, two other girls asked to stay with us. We agreed, and we all chatted back and forth for awhile. But it was still a long time before we would move down there, so conversation lapsed again. The only other thing Paige and I discussed before arriving was the color scheme for our bathroom - green and blue.

Amber Packs the Car

Honestly, I didn't exert much energy planning for my move to Florida.

Most of the things I had to buy were common sense items for anyone moving somewhere and starting from scratch. Some things I bought for fun - brownie mix, for example - but most of it was practical. I knew I was going to be taking my car, and parking would be provided. I had roommates picked out, I knew there was a local Target near the apartment complexes, and I had a group of people that I knew a little. Our Facebook group planned a dinner the night prior to check-in - a get-together for us to meet and say hello. I wasn't sure if I was going to go or not, but at least it was an option.

So, as the day drew nearer, and my shopping list dwindled to stray items, the surreal nature of my situation slowly began to evaporate. Not that it ever left, really, but it began to sink in that I was doing this.

As I packed up Dinosaur the day before I was to begin my drive to Florida, shoving boxes behind seats and shifting my bag of books so the trunk would close, I thought to myself with a smile that this time next week, I would be an official Disney Cast Member.

And that was something to be excited about.

For more, visit the homepage of AMBER EARNS HER EARS